Institutions of Imperialism: The Royal Indian Engineering College Part 2
The identity of a Cooper’s Hill man was an ideal to live up to. The Cooper’s Hill man was ‘a man of the Empire’, a representative of the Crown, English civility, and order. On July 25th, 1879, in a speech on the 8th anniversary of the college, Lord Cranbrook, Secretary of State for India, described this ideal, “European civilization was very different from Eastern civilization and with their education, the students would have opportunities of impressing on the natives the high character which Englishmen ought to show in any country they were found. Far more was done by those men who, living among the natives, associated with them in such a way as to show that they took an interest in their welfare, than by any legislation”. They were expected to aim, or at least appear to aim for “good conduct and honest work” and “try to combine intellectual culture with high moral principle”, while focusing on “fine arts and gymnastics as well”.
These men were encouraged to be heroic, imperial pioneers, to conquer the frontier of the uncivilised world and spread the good work of science and good governance to them. Englishmen across the social divide were ensured that they could escape their hierarchized world and achieve social mobility in India. “In India, every man of ability had a chance of coming to the top”; fame and fortune in India were low hanging fruit for the Cooper’s Hill man.
Secondly, the Cooper’s Hill man was a military man. During the Second World War, only a handful of Cooper’s Hill men went to the war front, presumably because of their age, others were Air Raid Precaution wardens. Details of injuries and fatalities were listed in every edition of the magazine and repeated appeals were made to all men at the war front to send stories to the magazine. The few heroic narratives that trickled in fuelled a firm belief in their military prowess that was shared by the students and alumni. Freya Stark, in her 1945 book ‘East is West’, writes of the belief of Cooper’s Hill men in their ability, ‘so far as one could see, there was nothing to make prime minister Hussein Sirri (alumnus of RIEC) believe in our victory (in the Second World War) unless it was some perception of unbeatableness he may have acquired with other knowledge at Cooper’s Hill’. (1)
Deployed often in the eastern theatre of the war in India, the stories Cooper’s Hill men reported back to the magazines were replete with examples of their patronising attitude towards tribes of the northeast of India. In ‘A member’s adventure in Burma and Siam 1939-45’ published in the 1945 May Cooper’s Hill Magazine, Burmese Red Karens (an anglicised name for a tribe) “who were nice unspoilt lads were confused for Japs by the Chinese …came to a sticky end”. As an officer of the platoon, the ‘member’ shows little regard for losing men under his command. Later he recounts “My syce was still drunk so I had to engage a ‘wild’ Kachin (from a community bordering China) to look after my pony”
The ideal was not achieved as intended. In 14 out of 27 speeches made on Foundation Days at the RIEC, direct references were made admonishing the conduct of Cooper’s Hill men towards native subjects in India, by the Secretary of State or a government officer sent in their place as a guest of honour. The first batch of RIEC students “were so intellectually and emotionally burnt out that some of them had explosions of anger in Hindustani”, they argued that “natives of India did not know what gratitude meant“ and were generally accused of “misusing the opportunity of their high position”. (2) Repeatedly, the students were encouraged to “consider their conduct and character when in India”, and “to be careful that a first-class education doesn’t stiffen or stereotype their ideas”. (3) In later speeches, when simple admonishments failed, the ancient culture and piety of some of the natives were highlighted as reasons to respect them. The aforementioned examples have shown that communities perceived as less ancient or of ‘lower’ culture such as lower castes, tribals, nomads would not have qualified for this respect.
“They (RIEC Students) were dealing daily with people, many of whose civilisations were far older than ours, who were deeply attached to their institutions, religious usages and customs” (4), (they need to understand) “that there were as clever people in India as in England…. a proper regard for prejudices, especially religious prejudices or beliefs would help them sympathise with the people and to understand them” (5). The assumption of imperial superiority stayed with the students long into their lives; alumnus, W.B de Winton writes in 1948, reminiscing about his days in India, “gratitude above all, uppermost throughout my life, for the priceless heritage of British birth, no one can deny that we are a great race and British rule in India is to my mind the best illustration of it.”
The perception of the colonised as primitive, religious, superstitious and non-scientific was not specific to South Asians, or the institution under consideration. Such otherization was crucial in creating a belief of superiority that functioned at the core of imperial policy. The ideal of the Cooper’s Hill man was constructed in active opposition to the native man. This mute and distant other would have come close to challenging their stereotypes when the first Indians gained admission in these colleges (1866 at the Thomasson College, Akbar Ali in 1879 at the RIEC).
In 1875, Lord Salisbury, attempting to prove the democratic nature of RIEC admissions at the foundation day celebrations, stated “even a man who was educated in Calcutta formed the achievers of this college.”
The success achieved by Indian enrollees, singled out for their extraordinary circumstances, was exaggerated in public speeches with little evidence to back up the claims. In 1898, Lord Wenlock, in the foundation day speech expressed his satisfaction “that so many natives of India had taken advantage of the opportunities afforded to them in this college and had so greatly distinguished themselves”. Six Indians, who are mentioned in the 18 editions of the Cooper’s Hill Magazine surveyed, include G.G Dey and M.L Pasricha (Postmaster General of P&T department, a colleague of Reginald Cooke (6)), recipient of the Most Eminent Order of the Indian Empire, Nawab Ahsun Gar Jung Bahadur and Nawab Ali Nawaz Jung Bahadur, recipients of the Imperial Ottoman Order of the Osmanieh and B.S Singh, and S.B Tyabji, recipients of awards at the Delhi Durbar in 1911 and the Jubilee celebrations of 1935 respectively. The only Indian mentioned outside these lists in the Cooper’s Hill Magazines was GB Roy, the first Indian Director General of the Post and Telegraph, on the occasion of his death (7). All editions feature an absence of Indians from records documenting social life e.g. at teas and balls organised by the Cooper’s Hill Magazine committee, even from listings of deceased alumni (8).
Two themes emerge prominently from the narrative style submission for the Magazines that find echoes in Reginald Cooke’s memoirs as well. While not all stories relate directly to telegraphy staff or students, these stories were witnessed, recollected, written and edited by their peers or seniors and stand to reflect their perceptions on South Asians. These include a lack of intellectual ability with a primary focus on a compromised ability to speak fluent English and an inability to comprehend scientific concepts fully and, a lack of moral ability, which highlights character traits such as servility, docility, laziness, an inclination to steal and drink and little sense of hygiene.
The first theme under study is the lack of intellectual ability. In Volume 13, published in the summer of 1943, a member recollects examples of his Indian subordinate attempting to pick up colloquial English phrases and Shakespearian quotes that ‘brought (him) great delight’. An Indian lady’s inability to differentiate between a ‘peel’ and ‘pill’ and to incorrectly say ‘I never know’ instead of ‘I didn’t know’ is the cause for much amusement within the same volume. Another quip recounts a “timid servant” requesting a port master who has mistaken his own cow as a stray and tied her up “done order tie up cow, cow no having water no give any milk”. Extra effort is taken to spell out the faulty English of native speakers to exaggerate their humorous effect for British readership (9). Examples of natives mixing up ‘bridle‘and ‘bridal’, ‘ibex’ and ‘icebergs,’ continue to be the punchline in long-winded stories that attempt to prove the naivety and incompetence of native subordinates (10). This incompetence extended to the scientific ability of the subordinates. Some British engineers believed that “science whether natural or mechanical is not usually the forte of an Indian administrator” (11). Such thought is echoed by Reginald Cooper in the 1920s when he is deployed to teach a batch of mid-career Indian Telegraph officers and complains a Mr. Malik didn’t even know what a ‘watt, ampere or decibel’ (12) was. Sir Lionel Jacob, of the 1903-06 batch, takes this a step further by talking to his cook (khansanama) in French, stating his preferences for dinner, “you understand?” he follows up in English and receives a response in Urdu “Bahut Accha, hazoor ka Khushi” (very good, as you wish sir) in acknowledgement. Sir Jacob highlights how the lack of a strong moral character of the Indians eventually corrupts the Englishman. The job, likened to a death or prison sentence, makes English officers lazy, makes all opportunities outside seem too bright when compared to the four walls of the office, makes him a ‘tramcar type of man, capable of moving along only the set grooves of slavery’. An extension of this laziness is the attribute of not earning one’s money but begging or requesting for it, he ascribes such behaviour to the post office and telegraph peons, guards (chaprassis)and others ‘he is too jaded to remember’. Working for the PWD for so many years also makes him a liar, as ‘The cleaner (jemadar) for all his red and gold and the dagger in his belt is a stupid owl, but the morn’s morn will doubtless find us writing a chit to say that he is sensible and of the very best.’ (13)
The second theme is the lack of moral ability. A highlight of this theme is an abandoned project for a book titled ‘Stories about the Punkah Wallah’ (fan puller) of which the volume 13 of May 1943 features a few snippets. The intent of the story is to provoke romantic nostalgia in its readers, but it only highlights the inhumane treatment of Indians serving as peons, cleaners and servers in homes or offices. The first recounts the illness of a “lowly Indian patient” who was in hospital for insomnia; after exhausting all remedies they made him pull the fan (punkha) string which put him to sleep right away. The second humorously recounts how a drunken ‘touring officer’ came home in ‘convivial spirit’ i.e drunk and abuses the punkah wallah till he ‘pulls the punkah as if possessed’. Upon checking in on the still complaining drunken man, he was found lying under the bed (14). They are, as if material additions to the caravan of imperial officers, as hinted to in the Diary of CG Barnett, Public Works Department Burma, recounting the Bhama Tengyuch Reconnaisance for a Burma Road, “one night it rained, many things got wet including our servants who were sleeping out” (15). As alluded before by Sir Jacob, Indians were believed to be liars and thieves as well. In 1943, a legal case is comically narrated where a young dressing boy is falsely accused of stealing trousers by an Englishman and his Anglo-Indian Tailor. When the trousers were found to be too loose for the Englishman, the native washerman (dhobies) were blamed for loosening the once well-fitting pair. Only in the end was the protesting master of the dressing boy allowed to speak and admit that the trousers were his and were gifted to the boy. Even with this admission, “the case looked black in spite of the lad’s protest of his innocence.” (16) Even in the face of famine, the British doubted the honesty of those they were deputed to rescue. In ‘Further reminiscences of days in India’ W.B de Winton states “I forget what the pay was, it was certainly very small, but it was regular and many of them grew fatter, and I was told that the women owned more jewels than they ever had before” (17).
The inability of the natives, believed to be deserving of ill treatment, to retaliate was deciphered as a symptom of poor character and docility. In 1943, two Englishmen threw shoes out of a train compartment onto the platform, assuming that they belonged to an Englishman who had just deboarded. When an Indian subordinate who owned the shoes enquired about them and was informed, he simply said “it’s a pity your honour”. The comical story ends on a good note with the Englishmen shrugging off all responsibility by saying ” I have no doubt he recovered the boots later” (18).
These stereotypes persisted after the end of Empire in India, and extended beyond barriers of age, class and religion. Speaking of princely states in India, a story titled ‘Motoring reminiscences’ recounts feudatory states and zamindaries (areas ruled by hereditary landlords) believing in a short and happy life that a beneficent government stepped in to save by sending “young chiefs sent to Rajkumar college (Raipur) to be turned into respectable citizens and competent rulers if possible” (19). The same story proceeds to talk about a short but stoutly built Madrasi Mussulman camp clerk. This clerk is described as a “gem…always cheery and good natured under the most trying circumstances, he seemed to positively revel in travelling night after night, most uncomfortably, in a bullock cart, and in being on deck next day fresh as a pansy, ready to carry on his clerical duties or shikar bundobast with unfailing energy.” The narrator admits to accusing “him of being a descendant of Tipoo Sultan, a charge which he vehemently denied but he never bore me any malice on that account”. The legacy of one of Britain’s strongest opponents in the south of India, whose family was brutally murdered in the Mapilla Rebellion of 1921 would have been a painful part of popular memory when this joking, but malicious accusation was made.
Numerous such stories dot the pages of The Cooper’s Hill Magazine. They contain examples of personal beliefs and assumptions that would have been omitted from government documentation and even newspaper reports. The comparatively limited circulation of these crowd-sourced compilations of nostalgia, humour, and news allowed for the voicing of an unguarded informal voice. It is this voice that would have coloured the daily experiences of those who felt cornered or attacked by it. It would have set them apart from their peers, who already lived in different quarters, ate in a different mess, prayed to a different god and engaged in social activities that either didn’t welcome or didn’t stand the presence of an immigrant. Years in such institutions would have left a deep impact on the psyche of the South Asians who ventured there.
by Shibani Das, AHRC CDP Student from University of Exeter
(1) H.A.D Wathen, Surrey, The Cooper’s Hill Magazine, 1945 Correspondence.
(2) Lord Salisbury, President, RIEC Ibid.
(3) Sir Afred Lyall, Lord Cross Ibid.
(4) George Hamilton, Ibid
(5) Sir Donald Stewart, Cooper Hill, History in Speeches, reprinted from East and West 1902
(6) While Cooke joined the service in 1924, 11 years prior Pasricha was ranked Superintendent (1913): they superannuated as equals. The Gazette of India, December 6th, 1918, part II, Conrad Reginald Cooke, Dust and Snow: Half a Lifetime in India, (Conrad Reginald Cooke, 1988) 97.
(7) The Cooper Hill Magazine volume 13 May 1943, British Library
(8) The class list acquired by Cuddy is the most thorough record of Indian students at RIEC, they miss out M.R Jezzam and A. Vipan (found in CH magazine within a section recording alumni across the world). However, this was not an intended erasure as non-south Asian names are also missing in the Cooper’s Hill Magazine Volume 14 no 3 1948, British Library
(9) The Cooper’s Hill Magazine, volume 13 May 1943, British Library
(10) The Cooper’s Hill Magazine, October, 1944, 1945 December, British Library
(11) The Cooper’s Hill Magazine, volume 13 May 1943, British Library
(12) Conrad Reginald Cooke, Dust and Snow: Half a Lifetime in India, (Conrad Reginald Cooke, 1988) 97. Chapter 9,
(13) ‘Correspondence’, The Cooper’s Hill Magazine, 1945, British Library
(14) The Cooper’s Hill Magazine, volume 13 May 1943, British Library.
(15) The Cooper’s Hill Magazine, December 1945. British Library
(16) The Cooper’s Hill Magazine, volume 13 May 1943. British Library
(17) The Cooper’s Hill Magazine, October 1944. British Library
(18) The Cooper’s Hill Magazine, volume 13 May 1943. British Library
(19) The Cooper’s Hill Magazine, 1949. British Library